Marked
by missransom
Summary: Edward is a hired assassin working for the Volturi. After a failed hit, he is demoted assigned to go after Bella and kidnap her. Who knew that this would be his most dangerous mission yet. AH and quite OOC :
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello all! This is my first ever story for Twilight! And the first fanfic I've written in about five years. I have an HP fic somewhere on this site. I refuse to divulge the title of it because it rilly rilly sux. I hope you all enjoy "Marked." It was pretty fun to write the first chapter. Special thanks to my girls: N, S, G, and L [guys if you see this, GIVE ME YOUR FFn IDs! If you have them! lol] for looking over my story, giving your feedback, being honest, and confirming yourselves as my number one fans! Read on! 3**

_EPOV_

Nobody could see the world the way I saw it. People were never truly aware of their own mortality. They went about day-to-day eating their shitty food, not looking at cars as they came barreling down the street, sucking down on cigarettes and injecting their body with drugs. People just simply disregarded the fact that their lives were so precious and fragile, that it could be over before they even knew it. But I've seen that realization, that shock that said "I am about to die" a thousand times over. I knew that moment was filled with fear and regret for everything they haven't said or done in their lives.

Those people should've thought of that before they fucked with the Volturi.

I pulled out two wallet sized photographs from my pants pocket. Both pictures were of men, one blonde, and the other dark-haired. They looked middle aged and pretty harmless. This would be easy.

I stepped out of the elevator and walked into a large and spacious reception area and strolled coolly up to the desk where the gorgeous secretary with silky straight, onyx black hair was quickly typing away on her keyboard. Her green eyes looked up at me, and I smirked at how similar they were to my own. "Hello," she said in a thick Western European accent. "How can I help you?"

"Hi," I answered simply and placed my palms on her desk, in front of an assorted candy dish and a nameplate. "Xiomara." I liked the way her name sounded. It was unique. "I'm here to see Stefan and Vladimir."

"Your name, Mr…?"

"Cullen. But you can call me Edward." I gave her a small, polite smile so as not to come off like a complete tool, flirting with the hot receptionist. Xiomara clacked away on her keyboard and scrolled her mouse wheel down.

Her brows furrowed. "I don't seem to have you down for an appointment, Mr. Cull--" She glanced up at me, and I arched my eyebrow. "--Edward," she murmured as her skin flushed with a tinge of pink.

I placed my hand over hers that was on the mouse. "Could you please just let them know that I'm here? Believe me, they'll let me in."

Xiomara stared at my hand for a bit longer than one normally would before looking up at my smiling face. She nodded as she picked up her phone receiver and dialed four numbers. She kept glancing at me nervously but I held my gaze. Perhaps after I was finished with my work here, I could take her out for a coffee… get her to my hotel room before I took my flight back home. God knows I deserve it. And I know she was thinking about it as well.

"Sirs, there is a gentleman here for you both." She paused. "No, he doesn't have an appointment but-yes I know, but he says his name is Edward Cullen…"

Xiomara looked uncertainly up at me. She waited quite a bit, giving a few "Uh-huhs" and "Yes-es" then she nodded again into the receiver. "I understand, Sir."

She hung up and smiled openly at me showing off her pearly teeth. "You were right. You can go in now. Right through there." She pointed at two doors to the left side of where she was sitting.

I gave her a lopsided grin. "Thank you. See you soon." I'll make sure of that.

Turning the solid bronze doorknob as I pushed open the rosewood door, I was now inside an enormous office that had a large window on the back wall that looked out onto the sparkling night lights of the Bucharest skyline. The carpeting was lush and a deep burgundy color. There was a long table in the middle of the room that had six chairs around it that was most likely there for meeting purposes. There were also typical office knickknacks: a bookshelf filled with boring and pompous books about business, miniature silver statues that resembled nothing, other decorative pieces that looked like they came from some foreign place, a few landscape paintings, but no family pictures. Good. That made things less complicated.

I frowned as I looked around--the room was empty. Where could they have gone so quickly? I heard some shuffling and a running faucet coming from behind a side-door that had a gold plaque that read "Private" in Romanian.

I pulled my gun out of its holder, hidden underneath my jacket. I reached into the other side pocket, pulled out the silencer and twisted it on to the barrel. I needed to keep things quiet so I could walk out of here easily…. And bring the sexy secretary along with me.

I heard the faucet squeak as it was shut off, replaced my gun in its holder, and went to the bookshelf to pretend I was interested in the titles. The door opened, and I turned to face the ashy blond haired man from the photograph in my pocket. He was very short coming up to about my chest; his eyes were beady and dark brown, with a very slight and hooked nose. He was wiping his forehead with a handkerchief, which he appeared to have splashed with water. Behind him came the brunette man who was just as short and appeared as uneasy, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

I gave a sincere grin and inclined my head politely. "Gentleman! Thank you so much for having me. I imagine that you know exactly why I'm here."

The both flinched violently as if they were expecting to be shot dead on the spot. But I had my orders to give them a chance to make amends. If any moment was the right time, this was it. I motioned for them to sit in two of the chairs on the long side of the table as I settled in one directly across from them. The smile was gone from my face. Now I was serious.

"Do either of you have anything to say to me?" my voice was hard and icy.

The blonde one, Stefan, who was turning several shades of red, looked as if he were trying very hard not to cry. Vladimir was trembling like the last leaf on the tree as he quietly murmured, "We _are_ going to pay the Volturi back. Please…just give us more time."

"You've had your time!" I spat at them causing them to jump in their seats. "More than three years time! While you both sat on your asses, struggling to get your company off the ground,you asked the Volturi to eliminate your competition. You promised to pay us the money. We did that. Your company blossomed. Then, you asked the Volturi to kill the people you borrowed money from so they wouldn't try to grab onto any piece of your business. You promised us COMPLETE ownership of the company, while you stayed on as our cover. We did that, you greedy sons of bitches!" I stood up at that point and I had to hold back my smile as the diminutive men cowered before a man half their age. "We've killed a lot of people for you two, and we didn't bother you about it because we liked you. Aro, especially. He saw that you were starting to reach success, and he believed you to be honorable men….Apparently, he was mistaken."

They refused to look at me. I quickly drew out my gun from my jacket. Both men scrambled out of their chairs and seemed as if they were going to run towards the door. I cocked it and pointed it a ceramic vase that was in a corner. The shot was quiet but the vase shattered as if a small explosive inside was detonated. Vladimir and Stefan froze in their tracks.

"I'm not finished yet," I said with a smirk. I let the empty shell fall with a clink onto the table.

Their faces were stricken with fright as I motioned with my gun for them to sit down again. They walked slowly as if they were on death row and were about to pay for their crimes.

I held the gun behind my back so it wouldn't distract them, but Stefan's eyes kept staring at the broken vase that was in the corner. "Stefan," his wide, crystal blue eyes looked up at me. "Where did you get that vase? It really was very beautiful."

He looked puzzled but took a deep breath through nose and said "Morocco"' but it came out very strangled and scratchy so he cleared his throat and repeated himself. I gave an admiring nod.

"Morocco is a beautiful country. I've been there several times. Their artwork is very expensive." I gave him a hard stare. "How much money did you pay for that?"

Stefan appeared lost for words. His brows furrowed as he looked at Vladimir as if his pale expression would somehow help him. "I…I…uh…I don't really remem-" I cocked my gun again and pressed it to his forehead. "About 80,600 dirhams!" he desperately gasped out.

I swiftly pulled the gun back from his face. Stefan gave the most pathetic whimper I've ever heard come out of a grown man's mouth. "So that would be a little over 30,000 Romanian leu." I pursed my lips and pretended to think.

"That's $10,000."Vladimir and Stefan both winced. "That vase had less than a quarter of worth for one hit you owe the Volturi." I leaned in close to them "Do you know how many hits you owe?" I sneered.

I alternately aimed my gun at both of their faces, eyes shut tightly waiting….I pulled the trigger and with a very short bang and the sound of wood splintering, the small bullet was embedded into the table in between the space where both of their hands were gripped to the edge.

"You owe us over $3,000,000." They both blanched. "Now, the Volturi is willing to be generous and give you a chance for redemption." Their eyes looked up at me shining with both gratitude and fear. "They're asking for nothing more than what you owe them; the money and the company. You're going to hand over both of these things to me tonight." Stefan's already pale face seemed to grow even whiter.

Inside my other jacket pocket, I pulled out a few sheets of paper folded neatly in half and threw it over the bullet hole in the table. "This is a contract guaranteeing that our organization has complete ownership of your business. Read over it if you like, but it won't matter anyway. Either you sign the papers…" I cocked the gun a third time, "…or you die."

A soft knock rapped on the door and a brief spasm of hope flickered across Vladimir and Stefan's faces as Xiomara's accented voice called out, "Gentleman, may I come in? I thought I heard something break."

I pressed the gun directly into Vladimir's skull. He gave a small gasp and cry.

"Shut it!" I hissed, digging the barrel of the gun harder into his head "Open the door and _calmly_ tell her everything is fine. If you say otherwise, I have no problem killing her too. Understand?"

He took a long, deep breath to compose himself and nodded.

"And _you_," I pointed a threatening finger to Stefan, "Don't move. Don't say anything,"

I growled as Xiomara knocked again. Vladimir got up from his seat and walked around the table, my gun not moving away from him. I laid flat against the wall beside the door as Vladimir opened it and slightly stuck his head out.

Before he could open his mouth to say anything, the door flew open and he was knocked on his back. I pointed my weapon at the intruder and found myself staring at Xiomara with a sawed off shotgun in her arms.

_What the fuck?!_

Without taking my eyes off the killer secretary, I called out to Stefan and Vladimir, "So, you guys thought you'd set me up, huh?"

"Did you think we wouldn't take precautions to protect ourselves?" Stefan shouted triumphantly.

"Well, I'm glad you decided to distract me with this young woman instead of taking matters into your own hands." I smirked at Xiomara, playing it cool and trying to quickly think of a way to gain the upper hand in this unexpected situation.

We stood there in a Mexican standoff, our guns pointed at each other's faces. Perhaps, I could make her an offer….

"Look, sweetie," I said in my smoothest voice possible. She narrowed her eyes and gripped her gun harder, "it looks to me that you know exactly how to handle that thing. Well, what do you say you come with me," I broadened my smile, "and join the Volturi? We assuredly will treat you better than these two. We'll pay you better too. I'll teach you everything I know myself."

I took a step closer to her, and she put her weapon within inches of my chest. Xiomara's face was smug; her beautiful green eyes were hard and cold. I wondered if this was exactly how my eyes looked like when I was on a job.

Feeling the electricity of the gun close to my chest, I sighed dejectedly. "Have it your way."

I darted out my foot and kicked Xiomara's legs out from under her body. She gave a yelp, and her gun accidentally went off, blasting a hole in the ceiling. As soon as she was on the ground, I kicked it out of her hands. Behind me, I heard Vladimir and Stefan's feet shuffling quickly towards the door.

"No, you fucking don't!" As I aimed my gun at the back of Stefan's head, I felt a hand grab my ankle and yank it hard. My chin hit the carpet hard. Before I could turn on my back, Xiomara's fingers were gripped painfully in my hair, and she snatched the gun from my hand. Her right arm enclosed around my neck and tightly cut off my air. God damn it, this bitch was strong!

I heard the running footsteps of Vladimir and Stefan, leaving the office. "Xiomara, you know what to do," Vladimir called out.

NO! I couldn't let the targets get away! Growling, I clasped my arms together and elbowed Xiomara three times in her stomach. She gave a loud groan and instantly backed off me. I wasn't going to play nice anymore.

I got to my feet and picked up Xiomara's discarded sawed off gun. She was staggering, her arms wrapped around her midriff. Without wasting time, I aimed and fired. She loudly screamed and ducked to the ground, her hands flying to cover her head. The large bullet shattered the window with a deafening crash, the shards of glass littering the red floor and falling into the street below. Fuck, that's bound to attract attention. The biting cold of the winter air outside flooded into the office.

I cocked the gun again, and the large shell fell to the ground. I walked to Xiomara's shaking body lying on the ground, and before she could lift up her head and attack me again, I brought my leg back and shoved it into her body.

"YOU! FUCKING! BITCH!" I yelled with each blow I gave, and her anguished cries did nothing to make me feel any remorse. I grabbed her glossy black hair tightly in my fist and pulled her up so hard, her feet left the floor.

Payback.

I had her face inches from mine, and in that moment, she spit a large amount of blood directly onto my chin, cursing at me in Romanian. Enraged, I tossed her a few feet away from me and whipped the shotgun across her face. Xiomara was knocked backwards again, her face inches away from my small weapon with the silencer. She grabbed it quickly, rolled onto her back, and pulled the trigger. Before I could dodge it, the bullet pierced into my right shoulder.

I gave a loud cry and my hand flew to the wound to try and staunch the bleeding. Even though I was used to an occasional bullet wound now and then, it didn't make it hurt any less. She was up on her feet now, breathing heavily; her nose and mouth streaming blood, her were eyes slightly crazed. She somehow looked terribly beautiful. We stood again in a standoff just like before, now with different weapons and a little worse for wear. The Volturi always let people get a second chance before they were killed. I gave a smirk, and Xiomara looked as if she were terribly insulted.

"My offer still stands, honey." That pissed her off even more as her eyes widened, and I laughed. "You'd be a valuable asset for the Volturi. You don't have to die tonight. Just tell me where Vladimir and Stefan went, and you'll be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams. I swear it."

Her arms twitched violently as she gripped tightly to my gun. That's it. I was breaking her. "The Volturi doesn't abandon its members. Not like how Vladimir and Stefan did just now. You could be dead for all they care as they make their big escape."

Her brow furrowed, and she gave a soft gasp. I noticed her grip loosened a bit. I slowly walked closer towards her. "We can help you, Xiomara. We could train and take care of you." Her eyes looked vulnerable now. She dropped the gun and sank to her one knee. I gave a relived sigh and lowered my weapon as well. I extended my hand to Xiomara to help her up, and she took it. No sooner did she grasp it, she pulled herself up and punched me hard in the stomach, knocking all of the wind out of me.

I wheezed and gave a few sharp coughs before feeling more fists connect with my jaw, cheek, and nose. My mouth pooled with blood, and I spit it out bitterly, wiping my chin with my sleeve.

I heard Xiomara's condescending laugh, "Do you really think you could buy me out? I don't work for anyone but myself. Believe me, _sweetie_, this is fun for me. I get money from who I choose. Not from someone who tells me what to do."

I growled furiously, gathered all my strength, pushed her away, and gave her the hardest kick I could to her chest. I think I heard her sternum crack and her shrill scream as she staggered back towards the shattered window.

"NO!" I cried out and ran to stop her from falling. My fingers grazed hers as she slipped away from me and was swallowed by the cold, gaping darkness below.

I stared at the spot where she fell for what seemed an immeasurable amount of time. An endless stream of curse words left my mouth as I ran my fingers through my hair desperately. This couldn't possibly get any fucking worse. Not only did Stefan and Vladimir get away, now there was a woman lying dead on the street below.

A furious roar escaped my throat, and with my remaining strength, I overturned the bookshelf, pointless, boring books scattering everywhere. I punched the wall with such force that I made a hole and felt a shooting pain run all the way up to my shoulder. My blood was still streaming out of my shoulder and face, probably splattering all over the carpet.

I had to make the call.

I reached into my pocket for my cell phone. There was a crack across the screen where I fell on it. Shit.

I pressed the second button on my speed dial and put the phone to my ear. I rubbed my cheek; it was throbbing pretty badly now.

The other line picked up, and Gianna's voice greeted me. "Hello, Edward. Is it done?"

I gulped nervously and breathed deeply through my nose. I smelled the metallic blood flowing freely from it.

"No, Gia. I lost the hit."

**Review please! You guys will inspire me to have more wonderful ideas about Hitward. ****J**

**Peace & Love, missransom 3**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! I'm back! Now, before you murder me, I have a perfectly good and rational explanation as to why it took me FOREVERRR to update. My internet is made entirely of fail. I've been without it for all throughout the month of June and it drove me up a freaking wall. I had withdrawl systems from not being on FB and LJ. Also-also: I've compulsively been fixing and refixing this chapter before sending it to my beta(s). Lol sorry. **

**I'm so glad for the reviews/Author Alerts/Favorites I've been receiving. They make me ridiculously ecstatic! If you guys have any questions/suggestions/theories don't hesitate to put them in your reviews or in a PM. And follow me on my Live Journal! Username: imprintee718**

**HOLY SHIT I FORGOT FOR THE LAST CHAPTER!**

**Disclaimer: The Twilight Saga and all of it's characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. I'm just putting guns in their hands. ;)**

Chapter 2

_EPOV_

I sat in the stiff backed leather chair, my hands folded under my chin, eyes closed as I tried not to focus on the god-awful headache that was assaulting my temples. Caius was sitting across from me, his expression absolutely livid. Aro was standing behind him, leaning against the wall, arms folded, seemingly deep in thought. Marcus stood in a corner behind me, looking his usual uninterested self, but I knew better than that. He would be just as pissed. I felt a bit ridiculous, like a child about to be told off by his parents, but then again I've never missed a hit before either.

They didn't even allow me to get fixed up properly before going to see them. I removed the bullet from my shoulder, back in Romania in at the hotel room. I patched up the wound all right, before taking the red eye flight back to Volterra. I wished Carlisle was here to help with the wound; he really was the best at this sort of stuff. I was lucky I wasn't bleeding through my shirt yet.

So here I was, my shoulder throbbing in pain, hands twitching as I tried to keep them still on the arms of the chair and not clutch them to the bandage. No one said anything. It was up to me to break the silence.

"I can finish this." I breathed, barely louder than a whisper. I looked up straight into Aro's eyes. "You know I can."

"Edward, do you have any idea the implications that you might've caused the Volturi?" Caius seethed. "We had to call several dozens of our inside guys just to get the media's attention off our asses. You're lucky Zafrina was able to make it look like a suicide considering all of the blows you gave to the girl's body! Not to mention getting rid of all your blood and DNA from the scene!" His hard blue eyes shone with an icy rage. "She had strands of your hair in her hands, for God's sake!"

"I know, Caius." I pinched the bridge of my nose like I often did when I was frustrated, "but I _need_ to finish this."

"You don't need to do anything," Marcus' soft voice spoke up behind me. "We sent James to take care of the Romanians."

I gave a soft little growl. Of course, they would send James to finish _my_ job. They and everyone in the agency knew that there was an obvious rivalry going on between us.

"The woman was trained," I said through my teeth. "And she had obviously been there for months. Whoever it was that was keeping track of the Romanians didn't do a very good job in informing us of their hired bodyguard."

Marcus moved quietly around to Aro's left side. "Victoria disclosed all the information she could find. She is the best informant we have, as you know Edward. She's absolutely untraceable and completely reliable."

I struggled not to yell out "bullshit!" in his face. Victoria was James's current squeeze, and she had it out for me as much as he did.

"_I _am also one of the best that you have. Even throughout my training I never missed a target." I felt my voice start to creep up into a snarl, "I know. I fucked up." Caius scoffed and mumbled something that sounded like "_You don't say?"_ I ignored him. "But I am very good at what I do. I won't fuck up again."

"That's nice, Edward." Aro finally spoke up and uncrossed his arms.

My mouth hung open a bit at his scornful tone. It was practically insulting. He gave me a small smile; his eyes squinted slightly, deepening the wrinkles in their corners, a bare hint of his teeth was visible. I felt my heart sink like deadweight into my stomach. I knew that smile, and it rarely had anything good following it. It was sometimes the last smile a target ever saw.

Aro continued. "We know exactly what you're capable of. That's why you're going to be put on a new assignment."

_Really?_ I tried to keep the surprise hidden from my expression. I had just botched a huge hit and was already being given another? But that _smile_. It meant something more.

Caius pulled out a manila folder from inside a desk drawer and pushed it towards me. I furrowed my brows because this certainly wasn't conventional. We did everything so high tech these days to avoid lost information or risking it getting into the wrong hands. This was certainly odd getting information on a target like this. It felt like something straight out of an old CIA movie. I hesitantly took the folder, opened it, and looked at the photograph that was paper-clipped to a few pages about the target.

_Fuck, this is old school._ The man in the photograph had cropped brown hair and a moustache. He was getting some grey around the temples and gave a faint wisp of a smile. I noticed he posed in front of a blue background, an American flag behind his right shoulder, and wearing a police uniform. I lifted up the picture to get a quick glimpse about the target.

**_Name_: Charles Thomas Swan**

**_Age_: 41**

**_Location_: Forks, Washington**

This was a really low-profile hit. I didn't like doing low profile.

"You want me to kill a middle-aged, small-town cop?" I stared up with disbelief at Aro.

"No." Aro's cruel smile grew even wider. "You're going to kidnap his kid."

_BPOV_

"ISABELLA MARIE SWAAAAAAANNNNNNN!"

I gave an impatient huff and continued brushing my teeth, completely ignoring the screeching voice and banging fists of my roommate, Jessica Stanley.

"God dammit, Bella!" **BANG BANG BANG** "Get out of the fucking bathroom! Mike is going to pick me up any minute!"

"OH PLEASE!" I yelled with a mouthful of foamy toothpaste. "Mike would wait eons for you, being the lovesick puppy that he is."

It now sounded like Jessica was alternating between pummeling the door with her hands, kicking it, and pounding against it with her shoulder. "BELLAAAAA!!! PLEASE! I NEED TO PUT ON MY FUCKING MAKEUP!"

I heard Angela Weber, my other roommate, cry out, "You better let her in before she takes the door down, Bells. You know very well she's capable."

Giggling like mad, I spit and rinsed, then I quickly pulled opened the door. Jessica fell to my feet, lying facedown on the white tile. "Finally!" she shrieked before pulling herself up and pushing me out, slamming the door behind her. Angela and I were roaring with laughter on the sofa at that point listening to Jessica's constant stream of _fuck_ as she was rushing to get ready. Her and the "big man on campus" Mike Newton have been going out for a little more over a month now after I made it clear that I wasn't interested in him. As it turns out, he's really grown to like Jessica.

Angela has her own boyfriend as well; Ben Cheney, graphic arts major and the sweetest guy I think I've ever known. Whenever he brings flowers for Angela, he gets some for Jessica and me as well. That's just the kind of person Ben was.

I had been seeing a few people but my disastrous bad luck made sure that they all ended badly. My last boyfriend's name was Tyler Crowley. I found pictures on his friend's Facebook page of him doing belly shots and making out with a busty brunette during the weekend I was home visiting my dad for Thanksgiving. Jess, being who she is, spread a really nasty rumor about him having some kind of STD.

I'm an English major at the University of Washington in Seattle; Angela does Photography and Jessica, Communications. We all come from the rainiest small town in the country, Forks. I moved there when I was 16 to live with my dad, after my mother, Renee, married my stepfather, Phil, who was then a minor league baseball player. Now, I was in my junior year of college; I went back home every break to see my father, Charlie and once a year to Florida to see Renee.

I share an apartment with Jessica and Angela. Us, three girls worked part time at a local restaurant/bar called "Grunge," where a lot of students spent their time. After realizing that me balancing plates of food would surely drive customers away, I found my niche mixing drinks at the bar. My cooking and measuring skills have come in handy and have earned me the nickname around campus, "Bartender Bella."

Angela had on her blue flannel shirt with the "Grunge" guitar logo on the front pocket and her nametag. She was polishing her glasses with it.

"Got called into work, Ang?" I asked.

She gave a frustrated groan as she pushed the glasses up to her face, "Yeah. Marco's sick and I, unfortunately, blurted out that I was free. Stupid, stupid, stupid me."

"Well, put on a little more mascara so you can get better tips," I teased and she stuck her tongue out at me.

"So what are you doing tonight then?"

I shrugged, "Meh, I'll probably just head down to the library and read."

"As if that's anything new!" Jessica shouted from the bathroom.

"Better hurry, Jess! I think I can hear your lapdog panting at the door!" I yelled back at her.

"At least I HAVE a lapdog!"

"Well, my grades are better," I mumbled so that only Angela can hear and she snickered.

"She has a point though, Bella." She leaned her head on my shoulder and looked up at me. "We've had this discussion before. You spend a god-awful amount studying and not worrying about your own social life."

"Hey! I'm social!" I defended in a rather childish, whiny voice.

The bathroom door opened and Jessica was scrunching up her hair with mousse as she walked across the living area to her bedroom. "The Shakespeare Club doesn't count! It's far too academic."

I rolled my eyes, "Last time you guys tried to get me to be more 'social,' I was curled up next to the toilet bowl with Alpha Kappa Delta written on my face with a Sharpie."

Jessica strolled out of her room in a pair of red heels that peeked out from her jean legs while putting on her earrings. "Well, I don't know how you find reading literature that you've read a billion times fun at all."

I crossed my arms and glowered at her. "I just do, okay! Don't judge my social activities and I won't judge yours."

"Ah, but we do! You don't approve of mine, just as I don't approve of yours."

"Well, what about Angela?" I gestured desperately at my other friend who immediately put both her hands up as if surrendering.

"Whoa, now. Don't pull me into this. My social life is perfectly fine." I laughed mockingly while Jessica gave a most unladylike snort.

"Yeah sure, let us know what you and Ben are dressing up for this year at the school's mini comic convention."

She put on a sour face, clearly remembering the scandalous Supergirl outfit that Ben had miraculously convinced her to wear. "All right!" she shouted while rolling her eyes. "Point taken. But Ben and I still go out and do normal stuff that doesn't involve me in spandex."

I shook my head as I pulled myself off the couch, strolled to my room to pick up my keys and wallet, stuffing both into the pockets of my school hoodie. "I'm going to the library to commit social suicide. Call me when I'm a best selling author and we'll see then about bringing me back from the dead."

_EPOV_

"Fucking babysitting. That's what they want me to do, Carlisle."

I was sitting in Dr. Cullen's spacious kitchen, blankly staring out the window onto the Venetian skyline. He had his old-fashioned black medicine bag open on the table and pulled out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, cotton balls, clean bandages, and tape. Without being told, I unbuttoned my shirt and undid the bandage I had rather crudely wrapped around my shoulder. I winced at the pain.

"My God, Edward, you sure made a mess of things," he said, looking at the bullet wound surrounded by a circle of dried blood. Was he talking about my sad attempt at patching my injury or my failed mission? I didn't pulled his chair to me and leaned in close to my shoulder to get a better view of it. "You've had worse," he chuckled.

I couldn't help but laugh too, but it caused pain to shoot through my arm so I stopped. He quickly got to work, cleaning it with the peroxide. I swore intermittingly between cries of "OW!" and "GOD!" Carlisle looked up at me with understanding; he smiled, knowing that this was how it went every time he had to fix any bad scrapes I got on the job.

Carlisle was the physician for the Volturi. We weren't related at all but he was my mentor during my primary training. I took his last name as a "thank you" to him and also as an alias. My fellow trainees, Alice and Emmett did the same. He really was like a father to us. Although Carlisle truly is a doctor, there was a time when he was younger that he was put on assignments as well. Everyone who worked for the Volturi was trained to kill in some capacity. The physician before Carlisle "mysteriously" disappeared about a year and a half ago. No one knows why or where. It was then Carlisle decided to put down his gun and pick up a stethoscope.

He put taped down the side of the square bandage that now covered my clean wound. "You're very lucky the bosses didn't do anything worse to you, Edward." Carlisle's expression was grave, "You know very well if it were anyone else they'd be killed on the spot or sent on a death mission." I nodded knowing he was right.

But wait…a death mission? Could I have been given a fake assignment only to be killed for my mistake? The image of me being gunned down in a dark alley with a machine gun assaulted my thoughts. I saw myself convulse and jerk every time a bullet passed through my body. I closed my eyes and the image remained, as if burned onto my eyelids. Back in reality, I heard the lock on the apartment suite door click, and my muscles immediately tensed, braced for an attack. Carlisle saw my unease and put his hand on my forearm.

"Edward, relax. It's only Esme." I turned my head and saw Carlisle's wife walk breezily into the kitchen and place a kiss to her husband's forehead before pecking me on the cheek.

"Hello, Edward. I heard what happened. How are you feeling?" She looked at me with her warm, hazel eyes and the disturbing picture of my own death melted away. I instantly felt a lot better than I did before.

"I'm fine now, Esme. Thank you."

Esme Cullen was the sweetest, kindest woman ever put on the face of the planet. I knew this for a fact. She also was a doctor, a psychiatrist. Assignments often took a terrible mental toll on some people. I know that I had to talk to her quite a lot when I first started. Although she never killed a person in her life, Esme was a world-class martial artist. As a joke, we all called her "The Bride." Alice once bought her the yellow and black jumpsuit for her birthday. Together, we called Carlisle and Esme were "Mr. & Mrs. Smith." They truly deserved one another between their never ending ability to care for others or unabashedly kick their asses.

"What's going to happen now?" She sat in the chair to my left and placed her hand over both of mine that were folded on top of the table.

"They put me on another assignment," I said grimly. "Instead of killing the target, they want me to kidnap his daughter." I heard Esme quietly gasp. "It seems they want to make it very personal in this case." She gnawed thoughtfully on her bottom lip as she shot a glance at Carlisle.

I knew what they were both thinking. "They're doing it on purpose. They should've probably shot me then and there but they didn't." I slipped my hands out from under Esme's, got up from my seat, and pulled my shirt back on. I walked to the open balcony beside the living room. The cool Italian breeze ruffled my hair. I furiously rubbed the bottom of my palms against my forehead. Like a dangerous patch of thin ice, my calm was slowly cracking.

Without looking, I heard Carlisle step behind me. "There's nothing you can do, Edward." His voice was filled with sympathy, but it was stern like it often got during training. "The Volturi's authority cannot be undermined. I know it is difficult but the best advice I can give you is to take the assignment, get it done, and be glad you're alive." I almost expected him to say "for now" but Carlisle was more hopeful than most of the members of the Volturi.

I gave a long, defeated sigh. Despite how much I didn't want to, Carlisle was right. In a situation as completely fucked as mine, it would not be prudent to simply ignore this. Another scenario popped into my brain like a lost memory. Aro came up behind me wielding piano wire and wrapped it around my neck. My hands frantically went to my throat and my body thrashed uselessly. _Goodbye, Edward._

Another flash and I was back on Carlisle's balcony. I turned to look at him. He sighed, "Death is not as easy as they say. It is a terrible and fearsome thing. But out of terror and fear come unity and courage." It was a lesson he taught me years ago, just as I was learning to shoot long distances and kill people with a flick of my wrist.

Optimistic prick.

Carlisle always taught me to be brave in the face of all kinds of shit. Even if there was a chance that someone could be sent to kill me, it wasn't like I couldn't fight back. After all, death was my _life._ And I still had my job to do.

With a determined nod, I squared my shoulders back and gave Carlisle a quick and appreciative hug. "Thanks."

"No problem, Edward." We separated and had nothing to say. We didn't do crap like this often. He cleared his throat to break the awkward silence. "Are you going to stay tonight?"

I really wanted to be alone right now, but Esme walked into the balcony door and she smiled hopefully at me. Fuck, I couldn't say no to that.

I consented and kissed her goodnight on my way to the guest room where I had my drawer filled with extra clothes. I had to get started on research for my assignment. I was given another chance. Tomorrow was a new day.

**Whoo! Two EPOVs! I fucking love writing through Edward's perspective. He fascinates me as a character. You'll probably see more of him, but I promise to include Bella in this a lot. Anyway, I won't take another two and half months to update but I need to remain...inspired. There is a little button that says "review" under this...click there...now. kthnx. I'd love to hear your theories too! Thanks to G for beta-ing this chappie in a heartbeat and also to N for giving me good ideas. And S and L for GETTING ON MY ASS TO PUT THIS CHAP UP! **

**Love & Brownies to all.  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Hey guys! Loved all the reviews I got! Thanks so much! Just wanted to let you all know that writing BPOV is harder than I thought. Writing Edward is easier to me! idk why...maybe cuz I'm so hopelessly in love with Hitward. *sigh* lol. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chappie. Thanks again to Super Beta G. Muahzzies**

**Disclaimer: The Twilight Saga and all its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. I just make them illegally make drinks. **

_BPOV_

I poured out the silver mixer filled with martini mix into three separate glasses that had little olives speared with toothpicks in them and served them to the young girls who sat on the bar stools.

"Thanks Bella," one of them said as they each paid for their drinks and put a tip in the heart shaped box I kept next to the register.

I nodded and smiled as their glasses clinked and they took a big swallow of the martinis. Even though I was getting the college students of Seattle drunk every night, it did my heart good to see them enjoy my concoctions so much.

It was a slow Tuesday night. The only customers I've had were the three girls, five guys, and Bourbon Bill, who never left the bar from Happy Hour to closing time. I always knew when to cut him off, but he still stayed anyway to slur out his opinions on current political policies and why one sports team was better than the other. Everyone joked about how he was in love with me and that we were together. Might as well be true since Bill was the only guy I've actually hung out with as much as any boyfriend.

I was polishing the glasses like I always did when we weren't that busy when Jessica suddenly ran to the bar and nearly jumped over the counter. "Bella!" she whispered loudly and excitedly, "Look at the gorgeous hunk of man that just walked in!"

Strolling in casually was, probably, the most handsome man I had ever seen. He had a tall built, an unusually beautiful face with angular cheekbones, and even from this distance I could see his eyes were a bright green, like emeralds. His hair was an odd shade of red, coppery and shiny. It was messy, but not similar to the guys in school who did it on purpose to seem sexy or cool. They looked like jerks, but this guy looked totally natural. He kept his hands in the pockets of his dark jeans and his black button down was rolled up to his elbows. He looked like a living, breathing GQ cover. Angela was the hostess tonight and she seemed a bit stunned as the man addressed her.

Jessica sighed dreamily, "Oh man, I adore Mike but this guy is a freaking model!"

I nodded, still staring at Angela and the guy talk. "I have to agree with you, Jess. He's a real looker."

"Hello, Sexy McFingerlick. Oh please, please, please, Angela! Seat him in my area, pleeeeaaaasseeeee!" She was bouncing on the balls of her feet and I laughed. Jessica's boy-crazy antics never failed to amuse me. Angela was leading him towards a single seat table that was, luckily, in Jessica's serving area. He gently held her elbow then and turned his head in my direction and mouthed a few undecipherable words to her.

"Oh shit, Bella! He's coming this way!" Jessica looked at me and squealed a bit. I suddenly felt inexplicably nervous. "You better make him the best fucking drink he's ever had!" That just made it worse. It must have been obvious on my face.

"Oh chill out, Bells. You're the best bartender I know and believe me, I do know. And for God's sake, flirt a little bit." She reached over the counter and pulled my tank top under my flannel shirt down a bit to show more of my cleavage. I gave her a hard look. "It's not everyday a guy like this walks in."

Just as she finished her hastily whispered advice, the handsome gentleman sat down on a stool right in front of me. The three martini girls at the other end of the bar stared at him and broke out into whispers and giggles. I rolled my eyes. He wasn't that good looking.

"Hello," he said brightly, his jeweled eyes looked straight into mine. A small smile tugged the corners of his lips upward.

Okay, so I lied.

Jessica and Angela disappeared while I was distracted. I looked around and saw them at the front podium. They gave me a thumbs up and I resisted the urge the flip them the bird. I noticed the man's eyes were still fixated on me and I felt my traitorous face flush red. I turned away and concentrated on the large array of bottles of different colored liquors. I realized that I was still polishing the glass that I first had when the guy first walked into the restaurant. Setting it back on the rows of glasses above my head, I chanced a glance back and saw that he was studying the drinks menu with pursed lips, his fingertips drumming a staccato beat against the counter. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I ducked down and flipped it open to find a text message from Angela.

_TALK 2 HIM! _

I huffed indignantly. I stowed my phone away, got up, and promptly sent an annoyed look towards Angela who blew me a kiss.

Well, I might as well be subtle about it. I put both my hands on the counter, kept my arms straight, and leaned forward, giving a slight bit more cleavage. It wasn't an obvious move but it often got me extra tips. Jessica and Angela high-fived.

"Have you decided what you would like yet?"

"Well, uh…" he glanced directly at my chest and I felt my face burn. "…Isabella." Oh. Of course. He was looking at my nametag. Still, the sound of my name on his smooth voice made my heart sputter a bit. It was like he was so familiar with it.

_Stop it, Bella. _

"Why don't you get me a-" His lips pouted again and suddenly his eyes seemed to flash underneath his long lashes and the bare hint of a smirk crossed his face. "A Silver Bullet." He looked directly into my eyes as he said this, and my breath hitched in my throat.

_Seriously, Bella. Stop it. _

"Sure thing," I croaked out. I scooped some ice into a clean mixing glass and grabbed two bottles of scotch and gin without looking. While I stirred the drink, I noticed the handsome stranger did not remove his gaze from me. Maybe he was paranoid about the way his drinks were made. I strained the drink into a short glass in front of me and decorated it with a curly lemon peel. Turning back to the front, I set down a coaster and his Silver Bullet in front of him.

"Enjoy," I said with what I hoped looked like a friendly grin.

He returned it with a lopsided smile that turned my stomach to mush. "Thank you," spoke the rich velvet voice. I felt myself nervously anticipate his reaction as he took a swallow of the drink.

He seemed to take a moment to consider how it tasted. He nodded his head, "This is excellent, Isabella."

I let out a breath I hadn't even realized I was holding. "Thank you." I tucked my hair behind my right ear. "And I prefer Bella, actually."

He brought the glass to his lips again. "You're a make a pretty good drink, Bella…where'd you get your license?"

My heart stopped dead. I should've known this day would come eventually. I technically didn't have a license at all. If this guy knew, he'd probably call the police. Being the daughter of the Chief in Forks won't help me here. Oh my God, what if he IS a cop?

I was stunned when he chuckled quietly. "Don't worry. I'm not a cop."

If I hadn't known it was a crazy impossibility, I would've sworn he read my thoughts. He dropped his voice to a whisper only I could hear. "It's okay if you don't have a license. I'm not gonna tell." He winked and I gave a relieved laugh that I hope didn't sound completely crazy. He absentmindedly stirred the lemon peel. "So, how does a girl like you end up making drinks without a license?"

I explained how I failed at waitressing and convinced the owner to let me bartend. I promised I would get a license soon but because of school, I haven't had a lot of time. "And no one's ever asked about it," I admitted. "Until you."

He tsked disapprovingly, "Aren't you the little criminal?" I wish there was a way to permanently stop the blood from going to my face. "Still, licensed or not, I've never had a Bullet quite like this." He brought the glass up to his eyes and peered into it with narrowed eyes. Then he sniffed the contents before taking another sip. "You sure it's just gin and scotch in here?"

I giggled and nodded, "Yes, I'm sure." I caught Angela's eye who was seating a couple, and she nodded encouragingly to me. "Are you a bartender too?" I asked him.

He paused for a split second before answering, "No, I'm not."

"Well, what do you do?"

He ran his fingers through his shiny russet hair, "I...settle people's debts."

"So, you're an accountant?" He looked like he'd be good at math. I thought I saw the corners of his mouth twitch a bit.

"Yes. Of sorts."

I nodded and tried to think of another question to keep the conversation going. "Do you like your job?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, "It has its benefits and misgivings like any other job."

I gnawed on my lip wondering if my next question was a giveaway. I decided to ask anyway. "Do you work around here?"

He smiled his crooked grin again. "Actually, I'm here for a short business trip."

"Oh," was all I managed to say. He tilted his head back and downed the rest of his drink. I immediately took the empty glass as soon as he set it down. "Would you like another?"

"No, thank you. I'm driving."

"I bet you have a nice car," I found myself saying without really meaning to.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "And what makes you say that?"

Crap! Me and my big mouth! I hope I didn't insult him. I had to save myself from looking like a total idiot. Still holding his empty glass, I tilted it within my hand. "You can tell a lot about a person by the drink they order."

"Oh, yeah?" He sounded like he didn't believe me. "What do you know about me?"

"Well," I cleared my throat, "I know you're not gay." He laughed and the sound of it made me smile widely.

"Good observation," he said. "What else?"

I thought carefully, "You like driving fast. You're very straightforward and do not tolerate nonsense. You appreciate simplicity. You're also very stubborn. Always careful... and precise. You're moody, too. You can be patient, but if you're pushed hard enough you explode in fury. Like a bullet."

I smirked in satisfaction at the nonplussed expression on his face.

"Impressive," he said with a grin. "Quite good, actually."

My smirk widened. "So what are you driving?"

"A Volvo."

"Knew it."

"That's quite a party trick."

"You pick up a few things here and there when you serve people alcohol." I decided to be bold now before I chickened out. "The only thing I don't seem to know is your name."

He looked down at his hands. "Yes, you're right." He cleared his throat but didn't answer right away. He seemed hesitant to tell me. Then his green eyes looked straight into mine, "I'm Edward."

"Edward?" My voice sounded dubious. No wonder he didn't want to tell me right away.

"Yes, Edward. What wrong with that?"

"Nothing! It's just not a very common name, that's all." It was a name straight out of the classic romance novels I spent so much time studying. "Do you have a nickname?"

"Do I look like an 'Ed' or 'Eddie' to you?"

I studied his uniquely handsome features - Eddie, the Volvo driving accountant...

"No, you don't." I gave a reassuring smile. "Edward's perfect."

"Thank you. I think so too." He reached over the bar and plucked a toothpick from the box I kept them in. He put it between his lips and chewed on it. "How much do I owe you?"

"Uh...," my gaze was focused on the toothpick Edward was gnawing away on. Hopefully, it looked like I was paying attention to him. "$3.50."

He reached into his back pocket and pulled a crisp twenty dollar bill from his wallet. I promptly returned his change. Without hesitation, he put all of the bills in the heart tips box.

"Er..Edward?" He looked up at me expectantly. Just his gaze made me feel embarrassed, as if he were scrutinizing me. "Do you know how much you put in there?"

He smirked crookedly, "Yeah. You keep it. It's why I put it in there." I was a bit lost for words but managed sputter out an embarrassed thank you. He waved his hand and got up from the barstool with a large sigh. "Maybe I'll see you around, Bella."

I smiled and nodded, "Sure, maybe."

And that was it. Edward walked coolly toward the exit, thanked both Angela and Jessica, and was out the door.

As soon as he was gone, I let my jaw drop and my forehead fall against the cool, shiny counter.

"About time you talked to a guy other than Bill," I heard Angela's voice say.

I shifted my face so that my left cheek stayed against the counter. "Was that real? Did that just happen?"

"Yes, it did!" chirped Jessica. "Now, where's that phone number I'm sure you got?"

"I didn't get his number." Both girls looked at me like I had declared I was a man.

"Why the FUCK not?!" Jessica yelled, causing the couple, the martini girls who were now eating at a table, and Bourbon Bill to look in our direction.

"Because he's not from Seattle!" I defended, "He's here on business affairs."

Angela squeezed my head mockingly as if to crush it. "Aw, damn it, Bella! Did he say anything that seemed like he was interested?"

I shrugged, "He said he liked the drink I made him and that he'd see me around."

"How cute!" she said. "Maybe he'll come by here whenever he's back in town."

"Hopefully. His name's Edward, by the way."

Jessica laughed, "He didn't look much like an Edward to me unless he left his puffy sleeved shirt at home."

"Oh, leave him alone, Jess." I grabbed a rag and began my routine of polishing glasses. "Besides, it's probably unlikely I'll see him again."

_EPOV_

Fuck me. I hate this damn assignment.

I think Aro, Caius, and Marcus' idea is to see if I'll kill myself before they can have someone actually kill me instead. For nearly two weeks, I've spent all day and a few nights inside of a rented Volvo watching this girl's boring ass life. Home, School, Library, Work, Library, Home, School, Library, Work, Library, Home, School, Library, Work, Library…I've often caught myself playing with the safety on my gun. I had to shut it away in the glove compartment before I did something drastic.

What kind of college student was she? Away from home, living with her friends, who got out quite a lot more than she did, even though they obviously were in the same boat as her. I noticed they usually went out with boys while the girl headed out to the library…fucking again.

Suddenly, being a hired assassin wasn't so bad compared to the shit guys my age would normally be doing. "Action" to them was nailing a girl who was wasted out of her mind. "Action" to me was fighting five thugs in a Russian bar, breaking each of their noses, and ending up putting a knife through their necks without getting a drop of blood on me. I was made for this. I thrived too much on adrenaline.

Which is why sitting here doing absolutely nothing fucking frustrates me to the point where I may actually blow my brains out. I had Alice's boyfriend, Jasper send me everything he can about Isabella Swan. Grew up in Phoenix and only moved with her father a few years ago; several hospital records for many injuries and broken bones mostly all gotten through some kind of fall (She fell off a balcony when she was 8. This bitch was lucky not to be brain damaged.); A and B student since she was in grade school with the occasional C in math courses. Jazz had given me her class schedule and I used as an excuse to follow her around campus. She was an English major and taking the required classes such as "Authors of the 19th Century: Love Addicts." Maybe I should just kill the girl myself to put her out of her misery. No one can actually enjoy this shit.

The only interesting thing I noticed was that she worked as a bartender in a restaurant. I scrolled through all the information about her on my laptop but there was no record of where she got her license. Curiosity over this, the overwhelming desire to get out of this fucking car, and the need for a drink, convinced me to go in. It was probably a really moronic idea to actually talk to the person I was commissioned to abduct but I've never done anything like this so who gives a fuck about proper kidnapper protocol?

At least I got a good look at her up-close. Long ass brown hair, brown eyes, rail thin, the palest skin I've ever seen on a human being that wasn't dead, and little tits, which I got an eyeful of throughout the night. I suspected her two friends put her up to it. I decided to be obnoxious and ordered a Silver Bullet because it was ironic and shit. Turns out, the unlicensed-to-serve-alcohol, Bella Swan made a damn good drink. I laid on the charm a bit thick to get her talking. Might as well, now that she was cooperative which may not be the case later on. Of course, the tables had turned, and I was suddenly an accountant with a funny name. Plus, the drinker analysis shit was pretty cool. I gave her a big tip for that.

A few days had passed since then and I was still tossing around ideas over how I was going to get this girl. I considered snatching her as she was leaving the library late at night. Or by gunpoint from the supermarket parking lot. Hell, I even thought of climbing in through her window. I had heard of people being abducted from their own bedrooms. Still, all of those ideas had huge chances of ending up becoming disasters, and I could not afford another disaster.

I got out of my hotel early on my third week here in Seattle and was now following Bella to school, still contemplating ideas. I always remained at least four car lengths behind her large, geriatric red Chevy. Maybe, I could carjack her...

Without warning, Bella's hazard lights came on and she pulled off to the left side of the street in front of a bunch of commercial businesses. I quickly pulled into an empty parking spot on the other side of the street, a few blocks back. Bella got out of the car, went around front, and popped the hood, where a large cloud of grayish smoke billowed.

I realized then how I was going to get Isabella Swan.

I wouldn't take her. She would come to me.

Checking my reflection in the side mirror, I ran my fingers through my perpetually messy hair. I pulled out of the parking space and stepped hard on the gas pedal. I shot past Bella, who was talking on her cell phone. I slammed the brakes and heard the screech of the tires against the pavement. Angry drivers honked their horns and yelled obscene things from their windows as they drove around me. Yeah, yeah. Fuck you all, I'm working here. When the road cleared, I set the car into reverse and backed up until I was parallel to Bella's truck. I rolled down the passenger window. Showtime.

"Bella?" I put as much inflection and surprise in my voice as I could.

She had just flipped her phone closed and looked up at the sound of her name. Her eyes widened and her face broke out into a smile. "Edward! Hi!"

"Hey there. Funny seeing you again."

"You too." She coughed as the putrid smoke from her truck blew into her face.

"I see you have car trouble." I struggled to keep the smirk hidden from my face.

She didn't seem to notice as she shook her head and sighed exasperatedly. "I think the poor old thing has finally died. The tow truck should be here any minute."

I slapped on my most charming smile. "Well, I'd gladly serve as a means of transportation for you" She blushed at this. "We can go get some coffee."

"No, no. It's fine, really. I'll call a cab because I because I have to get to school and I'm already late so I've missed some of the professor's lecture. I can't afford to miss any because everything he says literally ends up on the final and I have to pass if I want to get all my credits and graduate on time..." She babbled on and on and I had to shut her up.

"Bella! Bella!" I yelled over her voice. "What class are you missing now?"

"Political Poetry."

I laughed loudly because that had to be one of the stupidest subjects I had ever heard of. "Yeah, you're definitely not going now." She crossed her arms and put on a stubborn expression. As if that were to stop me.

"I'm not skipping class, Edward."

"Why not? It's healthy," I defended. Bella rolled her eyes. A loud rumble sounded behind me and the tow truck came into view. "C'mon, Bella. I'll take you to see your truck later and if it's not okay, I'll get you home."

She shook her head and gave a heavy sigh. I knew I nearly had her. I leaned over to the passenger side and opened the door. "Get in the car."

**A/N: HOSHIT CLIFFY! HA! Review plz, thanks! Mad love and (special) brownies to all. **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Why haven't I updated in forever? Answer: College. The end. I'm sorry, y'all. :/ I fail miserably as a reliable updater but I'm trying! I am! I have good plans for this story! and thankfully I have highly persistent friends and fans who kick my ass about writing. Thank you so much for the support. I've read a few reviews for this chapter before I added this note, and I am ASTOUNDED at the reaction. Honestly, you all rock my socks in flip flops *huggles***

**1) My NM review can be found on my LiveJournal - imprintee718(dot)livejournal(dot)com**

**2) The song Edward plays loudly in his car is "Breaking the Law" by Judas Priest. Let's call it (Hitward's Theme) for now. :)**

**3) Disclaimer: Twilight and all of it's characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. I just kidnap them for four months and have them do nothing. Then I put them into action**

_BPOV_

I stared dubiously at the open door of the Volvo. Ever since I was a child, I've been told never to get into a car with strangers; it was one of the first lessons Charlie taught me. He never told me what to do if the stranger was highly attractive and had a gorgeous smile.

"Bella, you're coming with me whether you like it or not." Edward said this as if it were an absolute fact. I inwardly smiled at his determination. _He's not that much of a stranger…more of an acquaintance._ I knew I was making lame ass excuses, but I really wanted to go, despite the nagging, logical side that told me I was probably going to regret missing class as soon as I sat down for my finals. Besides, Edward seemed to really want to help me. He unconsciously ran his fingers through his coppery hair.

_Screw it._

I gave an exaggeratedly defeated sigh. "Fiiiine." He smirked in satisfaction. I made sure the tow truck driver had everything under control with my car before climbing into the Volvo. He moved a few manila folders filled with papers and an expensive looking laptop into the backseat.

"Sorry for the mess," he said sheepishly. "I kinda have been working out of here lately." I assured him it was not a big deal. I stowed my school bag and purse at my feet. My seatbelt had barely clicked into place when Edward stepped on the gas and the car shot forward. I swear I felt my stomach flatten against my spine. I yelped out in surprise, my pulse climbing as Edward sped through the traffic lights, weaving in and out between other cars who blasted their horns after us. He held a button on the steering wheel and a fast paced guitar rift blasted through the speakers

_There I was completely wasting, out of work and down_

_All inside it's so frustrating as I drift from town to town_

"Edward! For God's sake, slow down!" I yelled as loudly as I could over the music to no avail. He was bobbing his head along, completely oblivious to me.

_Feel as though nobody cares if I live or die_

_So I might as well begin to put some action in my life_

I saw the light up ahead of us turn yellow and Edward, impossibly pushed the car to go faster. I glanced at the speedometer and blanched as the needle hovered around 65.

_Breaking the law, breaking the law_

_Breaking the law, breaking the law_

Edward made it past the light but the next block was already at red. A moving van was already there waiting patiently. "Edward…" I heard my voice crack. My hands gripped the edge of the seat, braced for the impact that would surely come. I felt my body lurch forward as he stepped on the breaks. The back of the truck loomed ever closer but the Volvo stopped with a jolt, mere inches away from the van's bumper.

I was trembling like a leaf and stared at Edward who was leaning back in his seat with one hand held casually on top of the wheel, the picture of relaxation.

"Are. You. INSANE!? Do you always drive like that?"

"Of course I do, Bella," he said without even a smidgen of sarcasm. "You should know."

I was momentarily puzzled until I remembered he was referencing my assessment of him over the Silver Bullet he ordered the other day. I had said he liked driving fast. "I didn't think you drove like a maniac on a busy commercial street! You're ridiculously lucky that a cop didn't stop and arrest you!" I exhaled sharply, relieved that my heart rate was slowing down.

"Relax, Bella. You're alive, aren't you?" He said this in a such a cavalier way that I felt the muscles in my cheeks twitch as they tried to keep my lips from smiling.

"Barely," I quipped stubbornly with a half frown on my face.

His lopsided grin appeared and I completely forgot how annoyed I was with him. "Don't worry. You're perfectly safe with me."

Guilt suddenly flooded through me. Edward didn't have to do this for me at all and I couldn't even be grateful? How much of an ass could I be? The light turned green, and Edward cruised down the street at a speed more appropriate for a large metropolitan area, occasionally going just above the speed limit.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled into my seatbelt.

Edward shook his head, "Don't be. I shouldn't have been driving so fast with you in the car."

"No, that doesn't matter. I should be thanking you. Here you are helping me when you're probably so busy working."

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. "It's no problem, Bella. Honestly, I'm glad I bumped into you again." I blushed and gave an embarrassed giggle. God, the _charm_ that just oozed out of him. And it was effortless too. Not like he was trying to be flirtatious or anything. It felt sincere.

We pulled into the parking lot besides a large Starbucks. I retrieved my purse and tucked it into the crook of my elbow as I got out of the car. Edward walked around to my side just as I had pushed the door closed. I had walked about a step and a half when a sharp tug pulled on my left foot. I hopped on my right leg, arms flailing in wide circles in a poor attempt to keep my balance. Why do I even bother? Just as I was falling forward, a pair of hands gripped my shoulders tightly and propped me up. Completely mortified, I looked up at Edward's handsome face, smiling sweetly at me.

"Had a nice trip?" he asked innocently.

I scowled. "Ha, ha. Cute." I whipped my head around and saw my shoelace was stuck in the car door. Edward's laughter rang out and felt even more humiliated. He opened the door and the taut shoelace sprang out. I quickly bent over to tie it, hoping my face would cool off a bit. Straightening up, I mumbled my thanks. He nodded once in return as we walked towards the Starbucks entrance.

"Have you always been so clumsy?" he asked as he held the door open for me. The sweet aroma of milk, coffee, and lemon cake blew into my face. I was a little put off by the way he asked the question. This was the only time he had ever seen me be clumsy. Maybe he meant to word it differently or he recalled how I told him I made terrible waitress.

"Unfortunately, yes." I answered as we got in line and began scanning the menu behind the counter. "I fall, stumble, bump into things, drop them, break them, you name it."

"I see."

"As long as you're near me, you are in a constant state of danger." I sighed half jokingly.

Edward looked sideways at me, "Oh, I doubt that."

The cheery barista greeted us and asked for our orders. I wanted a Strawberries & Crème frappachino; Edward got a regular black coffee with two sugars. She rang us up and the total was $8.50. I reached into my overlarge purse and pulled out my wallet. No sooner had I undone the clasp was it snatched from my hand. "Hey!" I whined at Edward who was studying my wretched driver's license photo. He closed it and put back inside my bag.

"I got this," he said in a hushed voice. I opened my mouth to protest but he was already forking over the cash. I didn't like being doted on, especially when Edward was already taking time out of his way for me. The least I could do was treat.

"You should've let me pay," I told him as we made our way to the pick up counter to wait for our drinks. His simple coffee arrived almost immediately.

"Oh please, Bella," Edward took a large gulp from the white and green cup. "I invited _you_. What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you pay?" My mouth pressed into a thin line. I was annoyed because he had a point and I didn't want to be outsmarted.

I rolled my eyes and scoffed, "You're being unnecessarily nice to me."

He flashed his wide grin at me, "I'm not that nice."

"Sure you are," I assured him as my drink was set down in front of me. "You're like a…a knight in a shiny silver Volvo." Edward snickered at the snooty British accent. I sipped on the delicious pink beverage as we made our way to a tiny round table by the front window.

"I really appreciate this, Edward." Damn it. I felt my ears begin to burn. I wasn't really good at being upfront with my feelings - something I inherited from Charlie.

I've already told you Bella. It's fine. So…" He took another gulp of coffee, "..can you tell anything about a person from what they get at Starbucks?"

I snorted and immediately realized how impolite that was and gave a quiet apology. Edward just waved his hand nonchalantly. "Er, no…I mean, I'm good at telling when it's alcohol because I make the drinks and know what exactly goes into them. Coffee's too complicated. Especially with milk. Whole, Skim, Soy, Half & Half, and don't get me started on the percentages."

Edward chuckled, "I see your point." We quietly continued drinking. It was a comfortable silence but I decided to break it before it got awkward.

"So how long are here for?"

He pouted his lips as he swallowed, "Probably tonight. Depending on how well things go."

I swirled the green straw, covering it with whipped cream. "To be honest, I've never heard of a traveling accountant."

Edward's bottle green eyes looked directly at me; his gaze was cool and appraising. It was both extremely sexy yet oddly chilling. "To be honest, Bella, I'm not exactly an accountant."

My head curiously tilted to the side, "But you said-"

"You _assumed_ I was an accountant. I said that I settle debts." I frowned and ran my fingers ran through my hair. I thought about the night Edward was in the bar. He plucked up conversation and seemed to be interested in me. He denied being a police man and vowed not to rat me out about my lack of a license….he settled debts…collected payment…

"Do you work for the IRS?" I was suddenly very nervous, but I knew I had nothing to hide. "I can show you all my tax records for the past five years. I've paid them all!"

Edward laughed and looked away in disbelief. He closed his eyes and shook his head, a smirk plastered all over his face. "Bella, you've got this all wrong. I'm not from the IRS so you don't have to worry about being audited. I'm not here for that sort of thing."

I huffed in relief and placed my hand over my chest, "You almost got me there." Laughing at my own silliness, I asked, "So what kind of debts do you settle, then?"

Without any hesitation or a hint of irony, he said, "Blood debts."

I wasn't going to fall for it this time. "Blooood debts?" I imbued my voice with the spookiest voice I could. "Do you work for the mob or something?" As Edward took another drink from his cup, he looked at me through his long dark lashes.

"No. I'm involved with something much bigger, more intricate than the mafia."

"Oooh, I see," I tapped my chin thoughtfully, buying into Edward's little game. "Are you like a super secret agent for the government? A James Bond type sent on secret missions to save the world from global annihilation?" I suddenly imagined him in a dapper suit and bow tie drinking one of my vodka martinis…shaken, of course.

His already large smirk somehow grew larger, "If I told you I secretly worked for the government, I'd have to kill you."

I was midway through another sip of my Strawberry & Crème frap and I felt my throat tighten up as I choked with laughter. I couldn't be sure but I thought I saw Edward roll his eyes. Coughing a bit to ease myself down from the giggle-high, I asked him in between breaths, "Okay, in all seriousness-what business are you in?"

He took one final swig of his coffee before looking back at me. He raised his chin, looking haughtier than I'd ever seen him. "Here in Seattle, Bella, you _are_ my business."

I was a bit shocked by Edward's statement. It was probably the oddest thing anyone had ever said to me. Of course, I couldn't admit that. "That's….uh…sorta sweet…" It kinda was…in a creepy sort of way. "But why don't you just tell me what you do?"

"I already have." My forehead furrowed in confusion. "I've been nothing but honest with you Bella. You are the reason I'm here."

Edward's face was completely serious but I waited quietly for him to show out "Kidding!"….but he didn't. I shifted in my seat, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable.

"Um…okay, Edward, this isn't funny anymore."

"I'm not joking." The sudden harshness in his voice took me aback. Even more so when he immediately smiled. But it wasn't the same as before. There was something terrible in it. He dropped his voice low so that only I could hear. "I know everything there is to know about you, Bella Swan. From your Social Security to your shoe size. I know you moved from Arizona to Washington when you were in high school; I know you own a $300 Louis Vuitton bag; you have an Imperial Russia Literature class every Monday & Wednesday; I knew you never had a bartending license."

I heard every word he said but I couldn't believe it. A rather hysterical laugh left my mouth. "Am I on TV? Is this a prank?" Of course it was. It was the only radical explanation I could come up with. "Did Jessica and Angela put you up to this?" I craned my neck trying to see if they were tucked away in a corner somewhere. I squinted my eyes at the ceiling trying to find the camera that was surely watching the whole exchange. All I saw were other customers absorbed in their laptops or chatting away with friends, completely oblivious.

"Bella, your father is going to die."

My head automatically snapped back to Edward who looked as solemn and stoic as a statue. I heard his voice say it, but it couldn't have been real. "Did you say something?" I asked.

He leaned in closer to me, so close I could smell the coffee on his breath. "I said that your father is going to die…unless you do exactly as I say."

It was undeniable that he said it now. His lips formed the words that I hoped I had only imagined. The brightness inside the Starbucks was suddenly very muted as the rare rays of filtering sunlight were blocked by clouds. It felt like an eternity had passed when I finally understood and processed what had been said. I made myself talk but it sounded as if I were distant from my body. "What did you do with Charlie?"

Edward gave a heavy sigh, almost as if he'd been holding his breath, "Nothing. He's at home, safe and sound." He paused and pinched the bridge of his nose, a frustrated crease in the middle of his forehead. He was muttering under his breath. I caught a few snatches of what sounded like "Fuck…God…what am I….can't…this isn't…got to…"

I couldn't take this anymore. Today had taken a weird and disturbing turn of events. All I knew was I wanted to put as much distance between myself and Edward, who was clearly psychotic.

Slowly edging my chair away from the table while reaching my hand around to grip the handles of my purse, I stood up as quickly as I could and briskly walked toward the exit. I broke into a run down the street, stumbling a few times, but thankfully not falling. I ran around the next corner, illegally crossed the street and jogged a few more blocks until I got to the park. I walked slowly down the winding bike lane to catch my breath as cars drove past me.

I tried to wrap my head around what just happened. Clearly, this man had intimate knowledge of me…and Charlie too. It sounded to me like he had made a threat against his life. Buy why? Part of me still wanted to believe it was a joke, but there was something terribly real about the way Edward said everything. I remembered that I had left my school bag in his car. Ugh there goes $150 down the drain. I had to call Jessica or Angela…but first Charlie to see if he was really okay because I wasn't taking any chances.

I reached my hand into my purse, feeling along the bottom through my wallet, keys, old receipts, and gum wrappers to find no phone. Peering inside to hopefully see it, I searched again, this time opening all the zippers and checking the outside pocket. I know for certain I hadn't left it in my school bag. I patted down all of my pockets, even going so far as to check my boobs. Maybe I let it fall while I was running. I resolved to retrace my steps in hopes of finding it. The chances that it would still be there completely unharmed were slim but it was worth the try.

I spent the next 15 minutes scanning the sidewalk and street for my cell phone or at least parts of it. Then I was back at the Starbucks. What if I left it inside? I felt uneasy, wondering if Crazy Ass Edward was still in there. I figured that even he had enough sense to not stay when I blatantly left. Squaring my shoulders, I turned the corner onto the street where the Starbucks was only to immediately freeze in my tracks.

Crazy Ass Edward was there all right, his car parked a few feet away from the corner. He was leaning on the hood, pressing buttons on a phone that was most definitely mine. Fury shook through my body. The nerve…the _gall_ that this jerk had! I don't know what his problem was but I was going to get to the bottom of it. He flipped my phone closed as I angrily stomped up to him. His charming little smile that made me blush and giggle more than an hour ago now made me red with indignation. I wanted to smack it right off his smug little face.

"Looking for this?" He held it between his thumb and forefinger and waved it in front of me. Like a child wanting a toy, I tried to quickly snatch it from his hand but he held it out of my reach.

I breathed deeply through my nose to try and keep my anger under control. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing at, but I would appreciate it if you would please give me back my phone."

"You should be more guarded with your stuff. Who lets a stranger reach into their purse?" he said with a cold sneer. The dirty little pickpocket! I felt embarrassed now, unbelieving that I let his stupid charm get the better of me.

"Give. Me. My. Phone." I enunciated each word precisely with as much venom in my voice as possible. Hopefully the message got across. Edward reached again into his pocket and pulled out my outdated cell phone.

"Is this what you want?" He waved it mockingly in front of me again. I balled my hands into fists at my sides, trying not to snatch it from him again.

"Yes."

Without warning, Edward threw my phone to the pavement and it smashed apart into two halves. I automatically screamed and my hands flew to cover my gaping mouth. For good measure, he stepped on it and twisted his foot as if he were killing a cockroach. "You're not going to need that anymore."

Another scream erupted from my mouth and this time my open hand swung back to slap him as hard as I could. I was centimeters away from meeting his face when his large, strong hand gripped my wrist so tightly I thought my veins would pop. He pressed himself close to me; he still smelled like coffee. I felt something cold pressing through my clothes onto my stomach. I gasped out loud and was about to yell again when Edward's chilling breath in my ear interrupted me.

"Stop it! Don't make this difficult, Bella. Get in the car or I will throw you in there."

I didn't want to move. Hell, I _couldn't _move. I looked down at the small space between us and, sure enough, there was a very real looking gun in Edward's hand pointed at me, cleverly hidden by his jacket. I swayed as a wave of dizziness overtook me. I felt Edward grip my upper arm; it was painful, not like when he helped me from falling earlier. I was led to a blurry silver door that obviously was the Volvo, and pushed roughly inside.

I heard a door slam and the engine start. My heart was pounding so hard it shook my entire body. I tried my best to fight against my mind that was so frightened that it begged for unconsciousness. _No_, I internally scolded, _we must stay awake._ Of course, my mind being as stubborn as it is, refused to listen.

* * *

I felt so warm. With my eyes still closed, I snuggled the large comforter closer to my body. Gosh, what a terrible nightmare. I could've sworn it was real….

My hand blindly reached towards the bedside table where I kept my phone every night. My fingers grazed over something smooth and cool. I opened my eyes and realized I wasn't home at all. The room was completely unfamiliar to me and my hand was touching Edward's silver gun. My hand flew back as if it was shocked and I gave a loud, fearful screech. A door from the short corridor to my left opened, and Edward strolled inside in all his despicable glory. I scrambled as quickly as I could out of bed which was a bad idea because I fell spectacularly on my back. Ignoring the pain, I pulled myself up and pressed up against the wall, as far away from Edward as possible. He was still at the door, leaning against it, appearing totally calm and relaxed with his arms crossed. Meanwhile, my whole world was collapsing around me.

"Looks like my little plan went as well as I had hoped." His smile was so arrogant, I wanted to rip it right off his face.

"Why am I here? What you have you done with me?" I quickly checked my body. My clothes were still on except for my coat and shoes. I appeared to be relatively unharmed except for bluish bruises that were developing on my wrists.

Edward walked into the room and bent over to open a tiny refrigerator. A mini-bar. So we were in a hotel room. I suddenly felt sick. What if he _had _done something to me? He straightened up and held a bottle of Orangina in one hand and two glasses in another. He poured some of the yellow contents into each glass.

"Nothing. I don't want a thing from you, Bella. Other than complacency and silence." He approached me with one drink held out. I was shaking so badly it felt like I was convulsing.

"Don't come near me!" I shouted and he stopped in his tracks. "What did do you do to my father?" I snapped at him.

Edward downed his drink while still holding mine, waiting for me to take it. "Your dad is blissfully unaware of anything for now. You're going to be a bargaining chip. If he meets our demands, he won't be killed and you'll be returned to him safe and sound." Edward gave me a hard stare as he still stood there with the other Orangina. He looked like he was getting annoyed. Still trembling, I took the glass from his hands but didn't drink.

"Charlie's just a small town cop…he doesn't have a lot of money to give." Edward gave a toothy grin that was almost goofy looking. "What?"

"It's not just about money, Bella. There are actual _demands_ he needs to meet."

A terrible thought crept into my brain. "And what if Charlie refuses?"

The smile was gone so fast from his face it was like it was never there. "Then you're both fucked." The impassiveness in his voice chilled me to the bone. I felt my eyes well up with tears. Me and Charlie were in danger because of him, and he didn't even care. I couldn't stop from crying.

"So what happens now?" I stepped away from against the wall and walked past Edward towards the bathroom as I tried to ignore the churning pangs in my belly and the wetness on my cheeks.

Edward casually shrugged and scratched his head as if I had asked him what movie he wanted to rent. "I make a few phone calls and wait for my orders on what to do."

Without thinking, without feeling, I threw the Orangina into Edward's face and ran towards the door. I didn't have to time to see him reel back in surprise. I just wanted to get out of there. I had one foot out the door and for a split second I triumphantly thought I would escape -- but I felt a strong tug on the back of my shirt, the collar suffocating my throat. The door slammed shut and my face was pushed painfully against it. I heard Edward's deep, rapid breathing as if he was trying to calm himself. What felt like his forearm pressed hard into the back of my neck. It made me cry out in pain. The tears came back but this time I was sobbing and pleading.

"Please! Just let me go! I haven't done anything wrong!" My cries were apparently too loud for Edward's taste. His large hand clamped over my mouth and he turned me around roughly to face him. The Orangina was dripping from his hair and the tip of his nose. His eyes were absolutely furious, a poisonous toxic green. His lips were curled as he spoke.

"Listen to me, _Isabella. _If you keep pulling shit like that, I'm going to make this extremely difficult for you, understand?" He jabbed his finger pointedly in my chest. "You're nothing but a fucking low profile job to me so you're going to have to do this my way." He pushed away roughly and walked right into the adjacent bathroom and began washing his face. I slowly sank down towards the floor, knotting my fingers in my hair and consumed with terror. Sobbing into my knees, I wanted nothing more at that moment to feel Charlie's arms around me, hugging me, protecting me.

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